Phantom Silhouette

The ghost, yesterday,
Writes a mystery of rising,
Falling, perfectly played no retakes,
Only steamy, streaming tears
Coursing over pallid cheeks
Give lie to the hale semblance
Of consistent happiness.
Still, the simple setting has
An attraction magnetic
Because in the playing, pain
Is a specter passed by,
No damage doubly done,
Not materializing – nor destroyed
By being again; only felt,
Visionary, memory recorded,
In soft tissue, written like
A blade slicing through braided
Rope to frazzle and progress.
All harm rendered obsolete
In the forward movement,
These crystalline moments,
Of who is and what will become:
The dream opens itself to
Fulfill love’s destiny now, ever.

Autumn Becomes

As the weather cools
A feeling, vast excitement,
Like blooming in Spring;
The air fresh washed squeaky clean,
A bright season evergreen.

Gathered Pieces

Every one of the following stands as a separate unit. Some are haiku; some are free verse. I often doodle verses on Facebook that do not get here. This mix is like that and from my journal.

Each one turned around,
Walked as far as could away,
Tears haunt me today.

You left me in tears
After all these many years,
You still break my heart.

I keep planting seeds
The soil and rain must nurture
And make the fruit grow.

What you do not know
Someone else cannot always
Reveal so clearly,
You must find, learn, for yourself.

I was sure it would
Never happen, but I stand
Here and totally.

When the time is right
You find what makes the most of
Your life and living.

Hearts sketched in pen and ink,
Is this all we have become
In the fading of our days?
I think we still must possess
Desire enough to help make
The world a better place for us
And those meant to come.

As a prompt, just canoodle with your imagination, engage your creativity, and let be what comes of the snuggling.

Doggie Dreams

It was a day
To
Rebound from being
In lockdown,
A day
Maybe
To run far and fast
Away,
Hope thought so
Anyway.
As she walked out
The door she leapt
Forward
Pulling against restraints
Of her leash thinking
Perhaps this once her human
Would let go,
Praying doggie prayers
For freedom though
She knew nowhere else,
She
Would rather be.
It did not work,
It never did,
Hope had tried
A thousand times
Before.
So, she prayed for treats,
Toys and petting from
Her human
And tossed her tail
In the breeze
Like
The beauty she
Was convinced
She was made to be.

A light tribute to my sweet Hope baby.

Repurposed

He was sitting on
The curb
Along with the weekly
Bins of trash.
Why? I wondered,
Who put
Him there, under
The sweltering
Sun? Yet,
I was afraid to ask.
I leave the business
Of others,
As much as I can,
To them, alone.
However,
His smile seemed
A mystery, asking
Much of
Me and his eyes
Blazed an uncanny blue.
He spoke
Well and was inclined
To be my friend;
I guess
Those and others are
Reasons how I came
Now, ever,
To have a presence
In my home
To whom I may never
Ascertain who once
Did belong.